As I was walking around the subway station mall last month, I noticed a small girl. She couldn't have been more than pre-school age. She was with her family, though they weren't paying attention to her at the moment. Suddenly, she made eye contact with me, and her face lit up with awe. She began pointing at me, and turned her head to her family, trying to get them to look at the strange person in front of her. I walked right past without any attempt to communicate, but this brief encounter stayed in my memory.
Some people might have been offended by such a thing, but I thought it was cute. After all, a child so young couldn't have had any ill intent. She was merely showing curiosity about someone different than her. I imagine most of us have similar curiosities about others, but our outward expressions of such curiosity don't manifest themselves so blatantly once we pass a certain age. Still, it was strange to me to think that something as unremarkable as my face could spark such a reaction.
As an American, there are many things I take for granted. I often wonder who I'd be if I were from a country that didn't offer the vastness of information and experience that America does. Foreign cultures often have a sense of mystery surrounding them, and I'm sure many people mistake these intriguing qualities for some form of enlightenment one is not privy to. What we in America can forget, however, is that our own modes of thought are unique to us too, and that our ways might seem just as incomprehensible to some outsiders. These differences occurred to me recently in two exchanges I had with my students.
In one case I was talking with a girl about noses. I'm not sure exactly how we got on that subject, but she was telling me that the "American nose" looks like Pinocchio (referring to my comparably pointy nose, of course), while the Korean nose is round and flat. I tried to explain to her that there's no such thing as an "American nose," because American is a nationality, not an ethnicity. I quickly abandoned the attempt though, because it was either above her English level, her level of cultural consciousness or both.
In another case, I was talking about Michael Jackson to one of my students. He asked me, "Michael Jackson, he was once African, then he became American like you?" My student, of course, was referring to the lightening of the King of Pop's pigmentation over the course of his life. I told him no, Michael Jackson was born in America, therefore he was always American. My student seemed to understand on some level what I was saying, but his original choice of words was telling about his thought processes. When he thinks of an "American," he thinks of a Caucasian person, because we Caucasians make up the majority of the population.
Some might find these comments sad, or representing a cultural problem with Korea, but frankly, I find them completely understandable. "Korean," unlike "American," is both a nationality and an ethnicity. My students are ethnically Korean, but I'm not "ethnically American," because America was settled by people who weren't indigenous to the land, and has since welcomed people from all over the world as citizens. Koreans can afford to define members of their nation by the way they look, because there are very few to whom their standards do not apply. These children simply used the same rubric for discussing my country's people that they would use for theirs, because they're not old or experienced enough to know any different.
There are lots of expat Korean blogs out there that seem to spend most of their time complaining about Korea, and the subject of racial discrimination often comes up. I haven't experienced that too much, but there are times when I wonder if certain people here are acting unfavorably toward me because I'm not one of them. I'm not going to get on some soapbox about it though, because a) I knew about Korea's reputation toward foreigners before I came here, b) I can't prove what anyone's internal motivations are and c) I don't know why anyone would walk into a situation where he knows he's going to be a minority and expect any different.
The other day I was talking to a Korean friend of mine. He told me that at church he had gotten into an argument with another member. This member is a Caucasian Canadian man who's engaged to a Korean woman. The man was passing out invitations to his wedding, and my Korean friend refused to accept it, saying he didn't approve of the marriage. He feels it's a bad idea for non-Koreans to be marrying Koreans in this country, and he told this man so to his face. I wasn't there, but I can imagine it didn't go over well.
I'm sure the first thought of many Western readers is that my friend is a horrific racist who I should kick to the curb. After all, mixed couples are quite common in our countries, and we scoff at the idea that any respectable person these days could possibly oppose them. When I discussed it with him though, I came away from it respecting his viewpoint. After all, my friend is Korean, and he's more in tune with the minds of Korean people than any foreigner could be. I got the impression that he isn't opposed to interracial marriage in principle, it's just that he thinks there are many cultural dangers to it. His main concern is for any children these people might have, because mixed-race children are often treated poorly in Korea. He said sure, it's all well and good if two people love each other, but marriage is a commitment that affects others as well. It involves taking responsibility that supersedes one's emotions.
I'd be lying if I said I never had such concerns myself. There are many attractive women in Korea, and sometimes I wonder if one of them wouldn't make a good wife. There's another part of me that wonders though, if the negatives to such a relationship wouldn't outweigh the positives. In my country, people of any origin can become part of mainstream society, but Korea's a different animal. Even if I immigrated here, my ethnic difference would make me an eternal outsider. Those who could accept me as a person still wouldn't see me as a true Korean, even if I could claim it as my nationality. There have been more Westerners settling in Korea recently, but most of them are in the first generation, and one hopes that their descendants will be able to assimilate in spite of the obvious heritage barrier.
As far as this interracial couple goes, I certainly won't criticize their marriage. They both seem like nice people, and I trust that as adults they've thought through their relationship responsibly. I hope that my friend's concerns prove to be unnecessary, and that their future together will be wonderful. I don't blame my friend for reacting the way he did though, because I believe that deep down his intentions weren't bad.
America, like many Western countries, prides itself on its opposition to prejudice, and our sensibilities probably make it hard for us to understand a homogeneous culture like Korea's. Personally, I think what we might call "racism" is nothing more than a manifestation of our natural tendencies as humans to gravitate toward the familiar and distrust the unfamiliar. I may not like it, but it's a fact of life. I try to have the attitude that if I ever experience discrimination, or even some form of objectification (like kids who find my appearance funny), I shouldn't take it personally. It's not me, it's them. Besides that, it's not really them either. It's a product of their circumstances.
